


When You Fall Asleep

by Mary_Jo_Holmes



Series: Oblivion [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, Fix-It of Sorts, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Johnlock - Freeform, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Moriarty is Alive, Moriarty is back, Oral Sex, Parentlock, Pining, Post-Season/Series 03, Requited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sherlock's good with kids, Unrequited Love, a bit - Freeform, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_Jo_Holmes/pseuds/Mary_Jo_Holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set a little over a year since Sherlock killed Magnessen, and was saved from certain death from Moriarty. Starting on baby Watson's first Birthday. Moriarty decides to drop by after the party, intending to burn the heart out of Sherlock. The Watson's save the day, but tragedy strikes the household, leaving John raise the baby without Mary. Sherlock wants to be there for John and invites the Watsons to move back into 221B. John doesn't want to be a burden, after all there are only two bedrooms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When You're in my Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, I've been on here long enough without contributing, so here I go. This is my first fic so, um yeah. It is not betaed, or brit picked.

_John is happy, happier than he has been in years, yet it doesn’t feel real. He’s on the porch of a weathered cottage overlooking the sea. The tall, dark haired, familiar figure near the water’s edge wears a light blue t-shirt and thin kakis, a very far off outfit to his normal wear. He is holding a small dark haired boy, with his trousers being tugged by a golden haired girl. The figure gestures towards the open sea, apparently telling the children what can be found within the depths. The color of the sea today is a color that John knows very well, of course his favorite color. The color he would see if that figure turned around and walked towards him, Sherlock’s eyes. He has the perfect cup of tea in his hands. The children are his, he loves them. There is no pain, there is no conflict, a lazy Sunday afternoon by the seaside, yes this is happiness._

But what is the problem? The smell is off, he doesn’t smell salt, but baby power and rusty blood. Wait, why are those two combined?

The sound of metal being hit and muffled shouts shake John awake. Oh, that’s why it didn’t seem real, it wasn’t. His eyes won’t open all the way, he can barely make out the lilac color of the nursery walls. The nursery, the safe room. He manages to steal a glance at the crib, the golden haired girl is standing up in the wooden cot holding onto the stuffed bunny Mary had put in with her that night and a slim, long finger at the end of a ridiculous wool coat. The matching hand, finding the golden curls and patting them, soothing the girl.

“Sher..” is all he can manage at the moment.

“Ah good John you are awake. I was afraid I hit your head again on the way in here. Stop trying to move so fast. He hit you pretty hard.” Comes from Sherlock as John tries to move towards the rocking chair Sherlock is seated in and the cot, noticing the blood pooling under Sherlock’s foot. “Er, Mycroft is on his way, as well as NSY.”

“Where’s Mary?” John asks, just as a shout answers him, turning his head towards the noise. “God she’s out there? Wait who is she fighting?”

“Moriarty, he must have gotten tired of games and decided that tonight would be the end.” As John reaches for the alarm pad, Sherlock continues, “Mary told me to get you in here, and keep you in here until she, Scotland Yard, or Mycroft expressly say it is safe to come out. Well she just said her, but weighing on probability I added the.”

John cut him off, “She is my Wife!” Rose’s mother, I can’t just leave her out there.”

“You can and you will, you know she is more than capable to defend herself, opening the door gives Moriarty the opportunity to come in here, with Rose, is that what you want?”

“No.” Admits John. “God where’s Mrs. Hudson, what happened?”

“Baker Street by now”

* * *

 

**Earlier**

“No matter how many babies I see turn 1 this never gets old.” Mrs. Hudson declares gesturing towards the lilac and pink frosted, golden haired girl.

“ Ah, yes Rose, be glad Mycroft isn’t here, or you wouldn’t have gotten cake.” Sherlock attempts.

“Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson chastises.

“Sorry” resulting in the room filled with laughter.

“It is time for this one to get cleaned up and put down for the night, John could you take care of this? Mary asks pointing at the sugary mess left behind by the baby.

“Sure, good night my little princess, now say goodnight to Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh no, I’m going with Mary.” Mrs. Hudson exclaims.

“Sweet dreams Rose.” Comes from the rich baritone.

“Ni ni, loc.” Rose attempts. As Mrs. Hudson clasps her hands in front of her and coos.

“See she is smart enough to say my name first.”

“She didn’t say your name first, that was baby babble” John replies.

“Papa”

“See, oh princess yes, papa is here”

“Well then, Rose say mummy, please say mummy.” Mary pleads holding the messy baby.

“Papa”

“Oh well we can keep trying on mummy.”

“I've never heard her speak!” Mrs. Hudson exclaims as she follows Mary down the hall. John and Sherlock start to tackle the mess. They clean the kitchen in silence and soon enough the sugary mess is gone. A bottle of bourbon finds its way onto the counter, along with four glasses.

“Sherlock, can you get some ice?”

“What for?” Ask Sherlock as he turns around to see his answer, remembering the shared confessions of the same night exactly one year ago. “Do you think it wise, John?”

“We both need it Sherlock, a little liquid libation never hurt anyone.”

“Yes John, but you’ve seen me drunk, I can’t keep straight, and something might slip.” Sherlock admits, lowering his voice to avoid the ladies hearing.

“Like what Sherlock?” John dared.

“You know what John.” Of course John knew what John was talking about. It happened on a day he would never forget, exactly one year ago. The day his child was born, the day his wife almost died, and the day that his best friend said what he had meant to say on the tarmac, just weeks before.

“It’s just the one Sherlock, surely you won’t go blabbing your secrets after one drink.”

Just as John got Sherlock to agree to a drink, the ladies walk back in, Mrs. Hudson eyeing the glasses says, “none for me, it’s time for me to head home, Sherlock?”

I think I’ll stay for the drink, but you go ahead, I see you need your herbal soothers, but I need this drink just as much.”

“Oh hush you, you know I’ve got the hip!” Mrs. Hudson declares as Sherlock helps her into her coat, before steeping outside himself to hail her a cab.

“Goodbye Mrs. Hudson,” the Watson’s exclaim in unison from the kitchen, pouring themselves and Sherlock a drink. The remaining party goers navigate through the ripped paper and boxes from the earlier gift giving session and plop onto the chairs. They sit in silence, nursing their glasses until Mary breaks the Silence.

“Anything on Moriarty?”

“Nope, just crimes that could be his doing, he hasn’t made any kind of contact since the one, no whispers, not anything. I am beginning to wonder if it was.” Sherlock was cut off but the sound of wood hitting skull. John’s skull. Everything happens at once, John falls forward, Mary lunges for the couch pulling her gun out from under it, and Sherlock leaps towards John, receiving a knife in the shin. A soft sound followed by a large thump. Of course, Mary’s gun still had the silencer. The attacker was on the ground with blood coming from his skull. Mary drops her gun beside John, checks for bleeding and breathing, then starts to turn towards Sherlock.

“Miss me?” comes a familiar chilling voice. Mary reaches for her gun but Jim is too fast and already has his trained on John head. “tsk, tsk, tsk…” He had the leverage after all. “Be a good girl now and dismantle that gun and throw the parts to different parts of the room, you dispensed of my help to early. You see I had to start my web anew after someone, now I’m not pointing fingers decided to survive the fall I so graciously gave him and dismantled the web while I took a small holiday.” Mary did as he said. “By the way, not dead. That’s what people are saying nowadays isn’t it?”

“Yes I suppose it is.”

“I am disappointed in you Sherlock, you were supposed to die that day, but you are here so I guess I will have to burn the heart out of you, unfortunately for Johnny Boy here, it happens to be him, but I’m going to wait until he wakes up so you can watch the life leave his.” Mary cuts him off by tackling him to the ground sending his gun flying.

“Sherlock, take John to the nursery, there’s a panel by the door under the butterfly, safe room, go now, don’t open the door till I say it’s okay.” She manages as she struggles with the man beneath her. Sherlock grabs John under the arms and starts to drag in down the hall, it is not easy to carry an ex-army doctor with a wounded leg. Mary’s still trying to shout instructions to him, “don’t let him come out, if he wakes up, he’ll only endanger her.” And with that Sherlock is in the room and Moriarty is free from Mary and charging down the hall. Sherlock locks the door and reaches for the panel and arms the door just as a fist comes in contact with the metal door. Sherlock looks around the room, searching for, ah there it is, the large stuffed bee that he had bought Rose the last time her babysat. He tucks it under John’s head, makes sure he’s still breathing, and limps towards the rocking chair by the crib. He checks on Rose who stares wide eyed at rolling to the side of the crib to pull herself to standing. He holds out his hand for the baby to hold as he sits and pulls out his phone, John would have called the police first, before checking, knowing that Jim could be behind the attack, unfortunately the logical one of the group was the one unconscious. Two missed calls from Mycroft and one from Lestrade. Before he can dial his brother’s number the text tone goes off.

Stay there, we are on our way-MH

Of course the alarm would connect to the authorities and a camera that Mycroft could access.

“Sher.” John manages.

 

* * *

 

“Where the hell is Mycroft, he must have stopped for cake.” Sherlock trying to break the tension.

“Not funny Sherlock. Look it sound like they are in the kitchen.” John says as he reaches for the painting on the other side of the door. His Sigg, in a safe in a nursery that happens to double as a safe room, now how many homes can advertise that? “I thought Mary was crazy, insisting on this.”

“John no.” Sherlock almost pleads, his voice small, toying with the haphazard nappy bandage John affixed while Sherlock filled him in.

“Sherlock, I have to, you know I do, just promise you’ll take care of Rose, and arm the door again.” John announces opening the door, slipping out, and closing it back before Sherlock could catch him. He was torn between going after John or keeping John’s baby safe, he would never forgive Sherlock if something happened to her, so he decided on the latter, she was half John right.  Two gunshots. Sherlock tried not to cry, but that didn’t work.

* * *

John rushes down the hall towards the struggle. They’ve found the gun and are now fighting over it. John raises his as sirens start to fall in. The gun fires, Mary falls, John shoots, and Moriarty falls with a bullet right between the sinister eyes. He rushes to Mary while taking off his jumper, presses it to her chest.

“She said mum in the bath”

“Oh”

“Make sure she’s loved, take care of her and Sherlock, I know you love them both. It’s the way you look at him, the way you looked at me before he came back, before you knew.” Mary manages to choke out.

“Now stop it, you are going to take care of Rose.” John says holding back his sobs, he did love her once, as the jumper quickly absorbs the blood.

 “Alexandra Geneviève Rose Adkins.”

“What?”

“That’s it, that’s the whole of it, that’s me, A.G.R.A.” she says with her last breath.

 


	2. Only to Wake and Hide Your Face?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wakes in the hospital the next afternoon, with Sherlock by his side, mixed feelings, and apparently a heavier bank balance. All he knows is that Baker Street is where he wants to be right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here is the second chapter, please let me know if you see any mistakes. Also any feed back would be appreciated, it's going in the direction I want it to but, yeah.

_The sea is calm, overly calm there must be a storm coming. It’s just the calm before the storm. A beautiful blue green color, one Sherlock would never thought beautiful before he saw it in his son’s eyes. His son now seated in the crook of his elbow listening, or at least appearing to listen to him explain what kind of fish could be caught just past the beach. The golden haired girl standing with him clinging onto his trousers asking him questions._

_“Daddy, why is the sand sticking to my toes? Why can’t I go in the water? When can I swim? Can I have a biscuit? Where’s papa? Do you have a client?” Not letting Sherlock answer between questions, “Oh a shell!” as she bends down to pick it up, now totally engrossed in it._

_Sherlock chuckles to himself, wondering how he got here, he’s happy. He’s not supposed to be happy, he hurt too many people, he even killed a man in cold blood, he did it in protection of the man he loves, but still, if it hadn’t been for his brother, he would have been in prison, if it hadn’t been for Moriarty he would be dead in Eastern Europe by now._

_“Tea” Sherlock didn’t hear John approach. “Here give me Thomas, and you drink the tea.” John said taking the dark haired boy from Sherlock while handing him the tea. “What a lovely day.”_

_“There’s to be a storm later, it’s just to calm.” Not admitting that he would rather spend every Sunday afternoon like this._

_“That’s what you always say when it’s calm.” John mutters reaching up to peck Sherlock on his check._

_“I am typically right.” He says bending slightly so the shorter man could reach._

 

* * *

 

‘Sherlock! Sherlock open the door!” ugh, go away Mycroft, I’m in my mind palace, no I’m not It would have to have happened to be there, I’m... dreaming, that was a dream “Sherlock, damn it open the door!”

How long had he’d been asleep, he turns his head blinking fast towards the cot and then the door. He manages to stand and wobble over to the door. No sooner can he open it that Mycroft and Anthea are crowding in the room, Mycroft to him and Anthea to Rose, picking her up.

“Let’s get you somewhere safe shall we?” she murmurs to the fully awake baby. “How about a night with Mrs. Hudson, it looks like papa and Sherlock are going to have to go to the hospital.”

“Huds?” Rose questions.

“Yes, Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock I will be staying there as well, probably in your flat, I would just take her home with me for the night but I have zero experience with children. There will be added security to 221 Baker Street as well, we do not know how far he got with a web.”

Sherlock nods in her direction, “Why is John going to the hospital, is he okay.” He says coming out a little more distressed than he would like in front of his brother.

“Dr. Watson will be fine, it’s just suspected shock.”

“I heard two shots what..?”

“Mary then Moriarty, both dead, Mary in what looks like a struggle for the gun and Moriarty by a bullet between the eyes by John.”

“He’s never gone in shock before while shooting someone, why would he now?’

“I don’t know, maybe it’s his wife dying in his arms.” Mycroft said coldly. “That apparently does thing to people. Hearing more paramedics arrive, he turns to the door, “there’s another injured down here.” He strolls over to his little brother, “caring is not an advantage, Sherlock. You would do well to remember.”

“Just because you don’t love anyone, doesn’t mean I shouldn't.” Sherlock replies.

“All I’m saying is that things may not just fall into your lap, or um, bed, it is likely to get worse before your little happy ending.” He ends as the paramedics come in and go straight for the injured man.

 

* * *

 

“Mary. Mary! God no!” John cries as he hears the door burst open, and faints calls of his name. “No Mary, Rose needs you. I can’t, I can’t do this alone. That’s why I stayed, for Rose, I stay, you stay, deal.” He tries to compromise with her. “You cannot die.” John is still holding her when he stops crying, stops talking, and stops being, he’s a doctor he knows what’s going on.

“He’s going onto shock.” Someone yells mutely.

“Doctor Watson, I’m going to get Rose and Sherlock, stay with us you hear.” Mycroft says standing up. Then into his mobile. “Yes, I see him here now, the spider is dead.” As he walks down the hall, and John slips into slumber.

 

* * *

 

_“You don’t even know my real name.” crises Mary._

_“Is Mary Watson good enough?” John asks._

_“God yes!” Mary exclaims as she falls into her husband’s arms. Then there’s running, a lot of running._

_“Let me through, he’s my friend.” John tries to say as he pushes through the people around where Sherlock fell. “God no.” as he doesn’t find a pulse, they flip his over and it Mary’s face covered in blood, with dark hair, hands on her pregnant belly. He gets pulled away from the body only to turn around to see Mary shoot Sherlock, he tries to run to him to help him but the hallway goes on forever. When he gets there Sherlock is dropping his gun with red dots scattered over his face._

_“I will always be there for all three of you, I mean all two of you, both of you, just a miscount.” Sherlock tells him, while adding “Tell Mary she’s safe now.” He hears to voices in the back ground of what Sherlock is saying. A panicked Mycroft, “Do not fire, do not fire on Sherlock Holmes!” And that awful never forgetting “Did you miss me?” Coming from the spider.  He covers his ears and closes his eyes. When he opens them he’s back in 221B, Sherlock is looking at his birth certificate, “William Sherlock Scott Holmes, in case you’re looking for baby names.” Sherlock holds out his hand, “there is something I’ve been meaning to say, Sherlock’s actually a girl’s name.”_

_That’s not what he wanted Sherlock to say._

  _‘Oh’ John thinks, ‘that last bit was the dream, Mary’s dead’_

* * *

 

John can’t seem to find the strength to do anything but lay there not moving not opening his eyes, he hears a familiar baritone talking on a mobile. “He’s not awake yet, Mrs. Hudson, If he doesn’t wake soon I guess I’ll come and see if I can calm” he pauses listening to the landlady. “Of course I don’t want to leave him, but I don’t want her upset either. “ Tell her she’ll see Lock and papa soon.” John opens his eyes to see Sherlock’s head bowed seated in the uncomfortable hospital chair, crutches to the side.  As Sherlock looks up and see John’s open eyes boring into him he adds a quick, “He’s awake, bring her up.”

“How long have I been asleep?” John murmurs

“About 16 hours. It’s 2 in the afternoon. Mycroft will be wanting to talk to you.” Sherlock replies.

John nods as nurses come in to check his vitals. “So it’s over, yeah?”

“We think so, he didn’t come back with the same connections, but he could have made some, everything is quiet, but everyone is under surveillance, or rather heightened surveillance, the  two guards posted outside you house were poisoned, they were dead upon Mycroft’s arrival.” Sherlock answers typing on his phone.

“Loc, Loc, Huds!" John can hear Rose exclaiming from the hall as Mrs. Hudson rounds a corner, putting Sherlock in her line of sight. Then John sees her red face and tries to get up to get her but a nurse gently holds him to the bed.

“Not just yet, Doctor Watson, you won’t be any good to her if you pass out.” The other nurse scolds as Sherlock walks over and takes her in his arms, wiping the tears and snot from her face with a white handkerchief.

“Papa, Loc!” Rose says angrily.

“Yes I know you want papa, but he has a boo-boo and these ladies are trying to make him feel better, then I’ll give you to him, okay?”

“Papa ouch?”

“Yes, Rose, papa ouch.” John says as the nurse start to leave. “Can you give me a kiss to make it all better?” He adds reaching out his arms to take his daughter. As Sherlock hands her over she promptly gives a wet kiss to John’s forehead. “Oh Rose, I feel much better! Thank you princess.” John chuckles. “Did she stay with you Mrs. Hudson?”

“Yes that was the plan at least, Anthea told me when they came to the house. Said she would just take her home where she knew she would be safe, but had no experience with children, so she was taking her to Baker Street, and staying there herself.” Sherlock responds

“Oh yes indeed, they brought a cot in just before the young lay arrived with Rose, told me what happened and told me she would be staying upstairs, and that there was a car outside as well. I don’t think that poor girl slept, I heard her on the phone most of the night.” Mrs. Hudson added.

“Well I’m happy she stayed, Anthea makes me feel very safe, I don’t know why, but it seems that she could handle a bad situation.” John says as Anthea and Mycroft walk in.

“Why do you think she works for me?’ Mycroft inquires. “This matter is being processed by my people, and John, I’m sorry but in the official report one of my men shot Moriarty with a registered weapon, I’m sure you understand why.” The ginger man stressed.

“Er, yea I suppose I do.”

“Good, well I’m not quite done with the bad news. It seems that once I contacted the CIA they demanded Alexandra’s body. They have been looking for her for a very long time apparently and there has been an award for her return, Anthea is having it processed to your account.”

“So what you’re saying is that I can’t bury my wife and Rose’s mother, but here have some money.”

“John, I..” Sherlock starts.

“What I am saying, Doctor Watson,” Mycroft continues over his brother, “Is that since Alexandra fell out of view of the CIA there has been an award out for her return dead or alive, seeing that she legally had a daughter I saw it fit that the money should go to her care. I am sorry that she is dead for both of your sakes, but it is out of my hands and into the American’s now.” Mycroft explains.

John looks over to Rose. “Yeah I suppose it would be nice to spoil her a little, make sure she can get a good education. Jesus, how do I explain this to her as she grows up without her.”

“John, we have time to figure that out.” Sherlock blurts out, immediately regretting the use of ‘we’.

“I’ll have a memorial service for Mary, for Rose’s benefit, a day we can document, we can say she was cremated, buy an urn and say it’s her.” John says before turning to Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson. I’d rather not go back to that house right now.”

“But of course you’re always welcome back John, isn’t he Sherlock?” Mrs. Hudson says immediately.

“Yes, of course.” Sherlock almost chokes.

“I have a cleaning crew going over to clean the mess since the scene has been cleared. Would you like me to send someone over to get a few things?” Mycroft says.

“Yes please, she’ll need nappies, wipes, clothes, food, and toys. Her cot if possible, something familiar to sleep in, have them set it up on the opposite wall in the upstairs bedroom. I’ll need some clothes as well, and my toothbrush.”

“Make it happen.” Mycroft directs to Anthea as she’s already typing fast on her blackberry. “Well I must be off.”

“So must we, come on Rose, let’s let papa get some rest, let’s go clean your new room, goodness knows what Sherlock’s let grow up there.” Mrs. Hudson clucks.

“It’s not going to be permanent, Mrs. Hudson, just until I get everything squared away.” John adds quickly and holds up a hand as Sherlock starts to open his mouth, “they’ll probably release me tonight.”

“I’m not judging.” Mrs. Hudson says before adding, “It seems you two have some stuff to work out, say bye Rose.”

“Bye, papa, bye Loc.”

The doctor walks in as the ladies depart for Baker Street, explaining to John what happened, that his vitals are good, and what John wants to hear the most, that he can be discharged in an hour provided he can stay awake.

Sherlock and John sit in silence a few moments when the room is void of everyone but the two of them.

“Sherlock, what is it that you want to say, I know you wanted to say something as Mrs. Hudson was leaving.” John finally breaks the silence.

“It’s just I thought you would be staying at Baker Street from now on, you were amenable to it a year ago.”

“Yeah well that was a year ago, things happen.”

“So are you taking back what you said to me too?

“Sherlock I’m not taking anything back.”

“But you told.”

“Yes I told Mrs. Hudson it would be temporary, Sherlock, it’s been a year, Mary survived, you have been chasing Moriarty, but still in my life, I had the both of you, and now it’s just you, Rose lost her mother, a mother she grew to know, that’s a bit different than never knowing her, alright.”

“Alright.” Sherlock murmurs in his hands.

“Sherlock look at me.” Sherlock raises his head his hand reaching to the bed. John takes it. “I guess I should have chosen my words better, let me rephrase it, it may not be permanent, but it could, I need time to work stuff out, both for Rose and for myself. I can stay in the same room as Rose for now, but eventually I will have to move into another bedroom in 221B or another flat.”

“But there’s only.”

“I’m well aware of how many bedrooms there are in 221B.” John smirks.

“Oh.” Sherlock sighs.

“Come on now, let’s talk about something else, this isn’t quite appropriate talk for a widower of less than 24 hours.”

“Right, I suppose not.”

“Okay. So Moriarty.”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead, yeah? For real this time. Taking Mary or Alexandra with him, God what do I put on her tombstone? Were we even technically married?”

“Yes he is dead, as for the rest, I don’t know. She did die saving us so…”

“Another person dies saving me.”

“John, don’t you dare blame yourself, each time it was necessity, and more than you, if you wanted to put blame on anyone, then it should go to me, I was active participant both times.”

“Sherlock that’s, that’s not what I mean. It’s just… it seems… I can’t put into words, just forget I said it.”

“John I will help you, you know with everything. The memorial, finding your footing, raising Rose…”

“Yeah that last bit, poorly timed”

“Sorry, I just mean,”

“Yeah I know what you mean. It’s just I should feel something, you know, so I’m not letting myself talk of happiness.” John confesses as Sherlock’s head jerks up and his eyes focus on John’s, “But the fact is I don’t feel anything about losing her, not anymore, I did at first, I guess shock that she was dying and there was nothing I could do. Her telling me to take care of both of you, and how I don’t look at her like that anymore. I mean I did love her when we got married, but then she shot you, and got us all mixed up with Magnessen. Then you killed him to keep her safe, thinking that’s what I wanted, when all I really wanted was for my child to be safe, and to be…” John stops himself short. “I stayed because of Rose, now that Mary is gone, I feel relieved, I probably could have left with Rose if I asked Mycroft, but I didn’t feel right taking Rose away, but now it feels like everything it going to be okay.”

“John, everything will be okay.” Sherlock responds.

“But we don’t know if there is any more of a threat.”

“I’m Sherlock Holmes, there will always be a threat.”

“Yeah I suppose there will be.” John replies nervously.

“We can keep her safe, between you, Mycroft, and myself no one would dare touch her, you and I maybe, but not her.”

“Your right.” John chuckles as a nurse comes in disconnect him from the machines.

“All right Doctor Watson, you are free to go.”

“Thank you” John replies as she walks back out. “Um, Sherlock, I haven’t really got clothes do I, I held her, her blood must be all over my clothes, I think I lost my favorite jumper.”

“Anthea was carrying this when they came in.” Sherlock said holding up an overnight bag.

“Oh I didn’t see her with it.” John admits, seeing Sherlock’s eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, observing and whatnot.” He adds playfully. “Let me jump in the loo and get dressed.”

“Need any..”

“I’m sure I can manage.” John chides as he shuts the door leaving Sherlock to stand and slip into his Belstaff. John emerges with the bag over his shoulder moments later, “Alright love, let’s get home, get some takeout, hold Rose and get some rest, we can start working everything out tomo…” John stops as he sees Sherlock’s face. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

“You…you called me… _Love!_ Sherlock says astounded, hadn’t John said he needed time to sort stuff out, that a widower of less than 24 hours shouldn’t be feeling this way. “You said…”

“Yes I know what I said, and I also said I have mixed feeling and right now I feel like calling you love. Do you have a problem with it?” John replies holding out his hand in Sherlock’s direction.

“No, none at all.” The dark haired man replies taking his companion’s hand and strolling out of the room ignoring the customary wheelchair that was left for John and the crutches left for Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes John is a very fickle man. 
> 
> Also due to the title of the story I have decided to try to have a dream sequence in every chapter. Sometimes from John's POV, sometimes Sherlock's, sometimes good, sometimes bad, future, and the past. Sometimes mirroring the others. The dreams are likely to be expanded on in the prequel and/or sequel/epilogue. We have to know how Thomas fits in right?


	3. But You've Gone Somewhere Deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wakes the next morning in his old room in Baker Street, with evidence of his true love in his groin, Sherlock wakes after falling asleep deep in thought, in a similar situation, they each take care of it themselves. a few days later, John buries an empty casket only feet from the other empty one in the cemetery. The man meant to occupy it is by his side holding John's daughter. He's still having wonderful dreams of Sherlock in a happy, domestic life. He thinks it could happen, one day.

_“I think we should buy a house on the beach, somewhere to retreat to on weekends or slow weeks.” Sherlock announces while the dark haired newborn is balanced on his outstretched arm, his large hand cradling the delicate head, while the other hand holds a coffee mug._

_“What would we do with Thomas and Rose, hum, what would happen to them on those weekends?”_

_“Come with us obviously. We had a house in the country when I was growing up and I loved it, gave me a chance to explore.”_

_“Exploring the woods and the beach are two very different things love.”_

_“Yes I know but we would never let them explore alone, that’s the difference between my parents and us, my parents couldn’t wait for me to get out of the house, neither could Mycroft, said I asked too many questions.”_

_“I can see that happening.” Chuckles the shorter man. “But you are right we wouldn’t let just go out by themselves, but maybe we can look at the country side as well, I know how much you enjoy bees.”_

_Sherlock thought about that for a moment, he did enjoy bees, and collecting honey would be lovely. “It’s just Rose loves the water and Thomas seems to enjoy bath time.”_

_“I know love, let’s just explore our options.” John says hearing movement upstairs. “I’d better go get her before she decides to climb down the stairs without me.” He continues towards the open door that leads to the stairs. As he starts up the stairs he commands, “Stay at the top Rose, papa is coming to get you.”_

_“Promise me that when you start walking you take it slow and not give us a heart attack every time you move.” Sherlock whispers to the sleeping baby, remembering all the times Rose has fallen trying to walk._

_“While we are at it maybe we should look into a bigger flat or a house.” John states, holding the golden haired girl walking back into the kitchen setting her down at the table before heading towards the counter to cut an apple. “They can’t share forever, she’ll need her privacy and he’ll need room to do experiments.” He adds jokingly. “He is yours after all.”_

_“Baker Street is our home we can’t just leave it.”_

_“We need more room.”_

_“I’ll talk to Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft about what we can do to find more room.” Sherlock adds with a definite nod._

_“Baker Street is not the TARDIS, we can’t just make more room when we need it, and it’s defiantly not bigger on the inside. Here princess have an apple.”_

_“Thank you papa.”_

_“I happen to know that there is some room above Mrs. Turner’s flats that are not being used, all we would simply have to do is buy the flats from the two ladies, let them live in their respective flats, and do a little remodeling that Mycroft can help us get the permits for.”_

_“So you have thought about this?”_

_“Of course I did, when we decided to have Thomas.”_

_“That was nearly a year and a half ago, when where you going to tell me this?”_

_“When it became relevant, as it just did.”_

_“Okay Spock.” John replied as the smile set on his face before moving to kiss his husband’s forehead_

_“Stop calling me Spock, you know if I’m anyone I’d be Kahn. I’ll do anything for my family._

_“You are right on that one love.”_

John wakes to the early morning orange light filtering in through the breaks in the curtains. He knows he’s back in his old bedroom in Baker Street. He wakes rested and dare he think, happy. He should not feel happiness, but he does, he’d had a dream about Sherlock and not just any dream, a dream where a domestic life with the man seemed so close, a normal conversation, his child, another one, apparently genetically Sherlock’s, made sense at least, and bliss. He dreamed about that little boy a few times before, but never knew his name, and never noticed the matching gold bands on Sherlock’s and his fingers; they were married in the dream. Were they in every other good dream he had? John glances at the crib on the opposite wall, void of the golden haired girl. He moves to get up and disrupts the note on his chest.

_Took Rose downstairs with me, figured you need rest-SH_

He sits up and for the first time that morning he notices the discomfort in his groin. He was hard; of course Sherlock in a domestic setting would turn him on. He was in love with that mad bastard. Sherlock seemed to know what he needed, knew how to comfort him, God his wife was alive last time he let Sherlock get him hard. Sherlock was with him the last time to take care of it too. In this room, in fact.

“I wonder…” John whispers to himself as he reaches towards the bedside table. Yes there it is the forgotten lube that they used that last time. He doesn’t dare get up and lock the door letting Sherlock hear his footsteps. He could ask the detective to help him out this time but quickly sets it to the side determining that he would probably have to help Sherlock with his and make a quite a bit of noise in the process, Sherlock was never quite when he came. He couldn’t have that yet, maybe one day, but he had a child downstairs with the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but he wouldn’t announce it yet, it wouldn’t be proper. Mrs. Hudson would hear like she did before, but this time there was no marriage to stop her from spreading the happy news. No he would have to take care of this himself, and just use the memories he’s tried not to forget, and quickly as well, he didn’t need anyone walking in on him.

He opens the lube pouring it into his hands and slicks his cock, shuddering at the cold touch and begins to stroke his length. He can hear Sherlock’s moans of ecstasy in his head, trying to imagine it was the detective’s hands in place of his own. Sherlock knew what he liked. But what he got instead was the memory of Sherlock’s hot, wet mouth around his prick. He began to buck his hips into his hand and the memory surrounded him.

_They had made it into the hospital’s restroom where their mouths tried to consume each other’s before Sherlock dropped to his knees. “I still want you John, I want all of you.”_

_“I know Sherlock, I want you too, all of you, and now I’m free, free of a loveless marriage, free from the woman who hurt you. I can have you and you can have me.”_

_“I can have you, I can have a life with you. Now I’m going to help you to remember that.” Sherlock says with a few tears falling down his checks as he looks up at the shorter man, before ducking his head down taking John in his mouth._

_“Jesus Sherlock.”_

They had been wrong at the moment, they were not free, not then, but now it was a different story. It hadn’t been the only time the two shared but it was the only one in which John didn’t feel guilty during. He had truly thought that he was free of Mary and could indeed start a life with Sherlock, and that was enough to help John come, screaming a muffled Sherlock into the pillow.

John laid in his bed a few more minutes before grabbing his discarded shirt and wiping himself off. As he stood he grabbed his dressing gown and pulled it on before heading down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

Sherlock woke with a start wondering when he fell asleep, looking towards the window and seeing the pale pink sky that seemed to accompany dawn. He sat up on the couch and stretched his hands above his head, willing the rising erection to go away, morning wood, or so the lesser mortals called it had been a constant battle in his life since he got of that plane. Since John had woken his libido. They had entered into a sexual relationship the night Moriarty came back. They had thought it was something they could keep when they were sure that Mary would die, and when she didn’t Sherlock knew that John’s responsibility was to his wife’s recovery and their new baby. They would have a few encounters that year, always running on the adrenaline high after solving a case together, and it wasn’t like Sherlock had all the time in the world to have his ass filled with cock or have his up John’s. He did have to get Moriarty.

But now both those hurdles were dead. Maybe he really could have a life with John like he had dreamed, maybe even adding that dark haired boy named Thomas. Sherlock couldn’t remembered how he got into the shower but was grateful to be there and quickly took his length in his hands, he knew he could only masturbate in the shower, the shower was able to drown out the moans that escaped his mouth when his arm wasn’t enough. He began to stroke quickly, applying just enough pressure in the right places. He just wanted to come quickly hoping that soon he would be with John. It wasn’t working; he had to draw up a memory from the John Wing of his Mind Palace. The last time they were together. It had been a few months and they both promised each other that there would a next time.

_“Jesus Sherlock, you’re so tight!” John breathed as he pushed his length into Sherlock’s hastily prepared hole._

_“Johhhhnnn!” Sherlock yelled, wincing through the burn. “I need you John, I need you to fuck me.”As he grabbed the ex-soldier’s biceps urging him to keep driving forward until he was fully sheathed inside the detective, stopping to let him adjust. “Oh God, move!”_

_John set up a steady rhythm of thrusting his hips against the dark haired mans ass. “I don’t want to let you go.” Changing his angle just a bit to graze Sherlock’s prostate. “How’s that, hum?”_

_“It’s good, oh fuck, God yes.”_

_“Then come for me love.” John purred in Sherlock’s ear taking the other man’s length in his hand stoking him to orgasm. “I..I …” was all the detective could udder as he came, his muscles fluttering around John’s cock sending him over the edge._

When the memory Sherlock and John came so did Sherlock, muffling his screams with his left arms, using his right to stroke himself through it. He stood with his forehead pressed against the shower wall for a few minutes as his body recovered. Then he quickly washed himself with soap before jumping out and toweling off before dressing in black trousers and his burgundy shirt. He threw his tan dressing gown on before he crept up the stairs to check in on the Watsons. He could tell John was still asleep so he turned his focus on the crib where Rose was fully awake and quietly waiting for someone to let her out.

“Hello little one, I wonder how much longer you would stay quite before you let someone know you were awake.” Sherlock whispered to the child as he walked towards the crib.

“Loc!” She exclaimed throwing her ‘b’ on the floor. As she realized she threw it she immediately regretted it. “Loc, ‘b’.” She said stubbornly.

“Shhhs, now don’t wake papa.” Sherlock whispered bending to pick up the blanket and handing it back to her ignoring the pain in his leg. He reached to pick her up but stopped. He knew if John woke and she wasn’t there he would panic, so he looked for pen and paper, finding it, she quickly scrawled a note, but apparently not fast enough.

“Out, Loc, out!”

“I’ll get you, I promise we can’t let papa wake with a fright now can we.” Rose seemed to accept this and fell quite again before being gathered into Sherlock’s arms and carried down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

“Mycroft came and dropped that off for you.” Motioning towards an envelope sitting on the coffee table, intently watching Rose seated on the floor playing with the large stuffed bee, as John made his way downstairs “The kettles just boiled, wouldn’t mind a cuppa.”

“No, of course you wouldn’t.” John rolled his eyes accepting that something would never change. “What is it.” Bypassing the coffee table to make two cups of tea.

“One death certificate of one, Mary Elizabeth Watson, and the contact details of the funeral home that arranged my funeral.”

“I suppose we should go to one that has dealt with empty caskets before.”

“Precisely.”

 

* * *

 

The funeral of Mary Watson was attended by no family only the lots and lots of friends. The preacher said a few kind words as they placed the empty casket in the ground. They had decided to bury an empty casket only a few plots away from the other empty plot in the cemetery. The one that was supposed to house the man that stood by the widower’s side holding the now motherless child dressed in a new black dress with a lilac sash and bow, toying with the lilac bow in the blonde hair as it didn’t seem to want to stay in there. Mycroft gave them the option of saying she was cremated or expanding the cover story of ‘car accident’ to cover a tragically mangled body as an excuse for Mary's body not being displayed before burial. John chose the second. He figured it would be nice to be able to take Rose to the plot and let her speak to a tombstone instead of a jar on the mantel.

They had decided that they would change the date of the death as well, making the cover story to be one that involved the car accident that happened near the house early the next morning, John simply said that she needed to get milk. He didn’t want his daughter to grow up associating her mother’s death with her birthday. Mary’s many friends had insisted that they be allowed to do a lunch after at a local church. John hadn’t wanted them to do so, but knew he would never have to see these “friends’ again and someone would be bound to take pictures of Rose for her to look back on the day. People started to trickle out of the cemetery and towards the church to await the widower and child. Finally only Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Greg, John, and Rose remained looking at the tombstone. The five adults were five of the six people who knew what the last line actually meant.

**Mary Elizabeth Watson**

**12 October 1976 - 17 February 2014**

**Beloved mother of Scarlett Rose Watson**

**Wife to Doctor John Hamish Watson**

**A.G.R.A**

When they finally made it to the church people surrounded John and wanted to take charge of Rose. Sherlock held tight to both as he herded the small group to a table and handing Rose to Molly. “Don’t let these vultures take her, tell them whatever you want, just don’t let her go.”

“I won’t Sherlock.” Molly replied before Sherlock head to the buffet to make John and himself a plate of food. Making sure some of the foods that Rose could manage and like to eat made their way onto Sherlock’s plate, she would just eat off of his. When he made it back to the table, Molly had given Rose her ‘b’ and John sat with a smile on his face. Sherlock set the plates down, poured three cups of water from the pitcher in the center before sitting in the chair next to John with a puzzled look on his face. Molly noticed, of course she did. “Amy.” Pointing to a petite redhead on the other side of the room, “Asked him what A.G.R.A meant. He’s laughing at cheeky answer he gave.”

“It wasn’t cheeky, I did say it was between us, she wouldn’t stop asking.” John argued.

“I thought you wanted to keep up appearances.” Greg interrupted. Mrs. Hudson, Greg, and Molly knew that it was Mary’s real name, they were even told what that name was when John found out. They had known since Sherlock and John knew of her double life. Mrs. Hudson was there when the boys found out. Molly and Greg were informed shortly thereafter. All three knew of the affair. Each person having caught them in the act at least at one point, Mrs. Hudson, on more than one occasion. It mostly happened at Baker Street, occasionally in the broom cupboard of NSY or the staff bathroom near the morgue at St. Bart’s. Neither of them judged, they knew that Sherlock and John were in love, but John couldn’t, no, wouldn’t take a child from her mother if the mother wasn’t posing a harm to her, he could actually, Mycroft would be sure to take care of it. But if he wouldn’t take Rose away, he wouldn’t leave her either, he was truly stuck in the middle of a marriage he didn’t want, a child he adored, and the man he desperately loved.

“What did you say it meant?” Sherlock asked picking up a biscuit and handing it to the child now sitting in his lap.

“Alex Gambled with a Retched Affair.”

Sherlock sat there in shock as Rose gummed her biscuit, getting drool and crumbs on his suit arm. He finally found the words. “Well that could mean a few different things according to the actual content.” He was hoping that John wasn’t calling their affair retched.

“Mary was Alexandra. Alex gambled with her life. What she did was horrible. Making a new life for herself and then finding me of all people, and therefore you, she knew the risks before she married me and continued a relationship. Did I ever tell you, she was married before? It was on her file, actually still married to the guy. So she had an affair, she gambled in a way because it was us, and it was retched.” Sherlock couldn’t hold in the sigh of relief. “Sorry love, I didn’t mean that I regret what we did, and now that I am free, I wouldn’t mind, um, well you know.”

“I think I know, but you should remind me when we get back to Baker Street, maybe give Rose her own room.” Sherlock replies, regretting adding that last bit.

“She should have her own room, beside your bed is more comfortable, you spoiled prat.” John casually murmured low enough that only the people at his table could hear.

“Yes I do enjoy the simple comforts.” Sherlock replied staring in John’s eyes.

“Can we watch Rose tonight.” Molly interrupted.

Mrs. Hudson declared the same time, “I think my sister could do with a visit.” Making John and Sherlock laugh.

Greg added “Not exactly funeral of dead wife conversation here.”

“Sod that, legally I’ve never been married, with a fake name and still being married, Mary was never truly my wife.” John said in a lower voice than before. “I think it’s time we leave. Come on Princess, do you want to stay with Molly and Greg.”

“Mols, eg? Yeth.”

“Well then let’s get you home and changed, so we can pack a bag for you.” John announced as the party at his table stood to walk out, ignoring the glances and pleas to stay longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG did I just write smut, *checks writing* yes I did a bit at least. What ever will they do now that Mrs. Hudson is going to her sisters, Molly and Greg (Yeah I ship it, sue me) are taking Rose, and they are both free men. 
> 
> The 'b' is in reference to the comfort item my niece adopted instead of a pacifier or tumb. She had, actually still has them, the square thin receiving blankets and holds them to her mouth and nose when she needs to sleep, is scared, or sick. Now that her supply is dwindling, and forgetting one when spending the night, a pillowcase or something similar will do. 
> 
> Again these dreams are going to happen, they will make sense in the second part or epilogue, depending on the response. Now I've added memories(the boys have to get off on something right), and dreams of the past, that are not in the show will turn up in the prologue. 
> 
> This is my first fic guys, please let me know what you think! kudos, comments, whatever, just let me know.


	4. How Am I Going to be An Optimist About This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When John and Sherlock return to Baker Street, they soon discover that an unwanted visitor has come, seeking payment.

Missed Me. Two words plastered all over 221.

Missed Me. Painted on the walls, on the table, the cupboards, the stuffing that was pulled from Rose’s stuffed animals,

Missed Me, on Sherlock’s violin.

Missed Me. Sticky notes stuck to just about every other surface.

Missed Me.

John tucked Rose’s head into his neck before turning back into the foyer. “You said he was dead.”

“He is dead.” Sherlock said from the sitting room as he dialed a number on his phone before bringing it up to his ear, “Get here now.” He said before hanging up. As he searched the sitting room and kitchen for other disturbances, John, refusing to let Rose go, and refusing to walk into the flat, finally gives up and yells for Sherlock to join the rest of them in the foyer.

“Sorry Molly, I’m not letting Rose out of my site for the foreseeable future.” John said turning to Molly and Greg. “Got your gun?”

“Yes, you? God I can’t believe I asked you that, forget I said it.”

“Upstairs, Hold Rose Sherlock, so I can go get it.” John replied handing the sleepy girl to the dark haired man.

“What is this Sherlock,” John said coming downstairs looking defeated. “They got my room too. All of Rose’s stuff. You said he was dead and now we get…this” the final word said as he threw his hands up. “My gun was sitting on my bed, just waiting for me like whoever did this wants to play.”

“I assure you Doctor Watson, that’s precisely what he is aiming for.” Mycroft said coming up the stairs. “Shall we convene to the downstairs, it seems Mrs. Hudson’s flat was left alone, it is being swept now for bugs, other than mine. Sherlock?”

“Hum, yes, John it’s not Moriarty, that much I do know, besides the fact that he is dead, when he came back he said, Miss me, this is Missed Me. It’s aimed at me. Someone is taunting us. I thought you said the flat was being watched, what the hell happened Mycroft?”

“The occupants of 221 Baker Street are under surveillance, not the flat itself, if there are no occupants home the men outside do not watch, however the cameras and microphones are always on.” Mycroft explained with a slight look in John’s direction. “Anthea will be here shortly with the footage of today.”

“I want surveillance on Molly and Gavin as well. If it is directed at me because of Moriarty, Geoff was one of the others he targeted and if he knew of Molly’s involvement, I’m sure she would have been next.”

“It’s Greg, and we will be..”

Molly cut him off by saying, “No Greg, we need it now, especially now.” She quickly shut her mouth, wanting to say more, looking at Sherlock as if to tell him to shut up. She is saved by Athena walking in with a laptop.

“Sir, there is something you need to see.” Anthea says as she sets the laptop down on Mrs. Hudson’s table. “Maybe not with Rose though.”

“Right, Sherlock, give Rose to Mrs. Hudson, Anthea, join them in the sitting room please.”

Yes sir.”

As Mrs. Hudson, Rose, Anthea, and a few guards make their way to the sitting room; John gets up and walks over to the door where he can see the sitting room and the laptop. Mycroft hits play.

* * *

 

_A tall, thin, blonde haired man, dressed in black walks into the flat, carrying his supplies. He’s muttering, no one can quite understand him, he starts to look around, and once he finds what he is looking for he straightens, clears his throat, and looks straight to the camera mounted just behind Billy on the mantel. ’My name is Sebastian Moran.’ He begins in a Southern American accent. ‘I am an ex-US Army sniper. I was hired by James Moriarty about ten years ago and quickly became his number two, all while keeping my identity a secret. Apparently that worked, that was until the CIA caught up with me when James fell of the radar. I have been incarcerated since then and quite honestly, thankful for it, seeing as the great Sherlock Holmes never knew about me. My lawyers finally got my release only for me to find out that James had been shot by John, oh wait, not John, but one of the elder Holmes’s guppies. I forgot that was stricken from the record, ops. Anyway my Dear Watson, you have taken what I love from me now I will take everything you love.’_

_The company watches on as Moran proceeds to destroy the flat before disappearing. Mycroft clicks on a different feed, Sherlock’s room. ‘How about the lover’s bed, oh my Dear Doctor Watson, how unfaithful you have been.’ Moran laughs as he takes his knife and drags through the mattress. He turns to the wardrobe. ‘Dear me, dear me, what nice clothes you have, Mr. Holmes.’ Before he proceeds to rip Sherlock’s suit and shirts to shreds. Sherlock hadn’t even gotten as far as his room before coming downstairs. Moran disappears again, Mycroft switches to John’s room. ‘Oh, this room isn’t fit for a princess, now is it Doctor Watson. I guess I’ll have to redecorate.’ Moran continues his raid of the flat. When he is finished, he straightens again, looking dead at the camera. ‘Dear Watson, I hope you have enjoyed my performance for you. I fear that you will not heed my warning, I will destroy what you love, just like I destroyed this home. Maybe I should tape that to, especially your lover’s I would quite love to have some fun with him first. Until we meet again.’ With that he bows and heads for the stairs and out of 221 Baker Street._

Mycroft closes the laptop and they sit in silence, John has fallen into a squat leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, Molly, having turned away since the destruction began, turns a bit green, and Sherlock has retreated to his mind palace.

“That sick bastard.” Greg is the first one to speak, tightening his arm around Molly. “What kind of sick fuck is he?”

“One that when captured, will be released to my custody.” Mycroft answered, looking pointedly towards the D.I. “The inhabitants of Baker Street will stay at my home until Sherlock and my team has had a chance to process this mess, and we get it cleaned up. “John, Sherlock, are you here?”

John is paralyzed, he doesn’t know why he just can’t seem to move, and fear is quickly rearing its ugly head. He loves Sherlock with a fiery passion, he loves his little girl and would do anything for her. Now this bastard was threatening them. People usually threatened his life to get at Sherlock, but no, he’s the one that would have to lose everything he loved, again.

_“God, it’s good to be back on a case.” John exclaims when he and Sherlock reach Baker Street after a particularly long and hard chase of Samuel Carter, murder of his brother-in-law. “He just didn’t want to come peacefully, did he?”_

_“No he didn’t, it’s like he didn’t want to go to jail or something.” Sherlock sarcastically replied, grinning down and towards the side at John. “Oh, um, John, you have um, a bruise forming on your cheek.” He continued reaching for the Doctor’s face._

_“Oh right, he did get one in before Greg got there. Maybe a kiss would make it feel better.” John was looking at Sherlock under his eyelashes._

_“Well, I’m sure Mary will be more than happy to do that for you, seeing as she’s not dead, and fully recovered from the birth and blood loss. I’m sure she’ll even help you with that.” Sherlock was all but gawking at John’s trouser fronts. He quickly turned and ran up the stairs to 221B leaving John to adjust himself before running after the detective._

_“You know bloody well, I don’t want her to help with this, haven’t you deduced yet that I’ve been sleeping in the guest room for the past twelve weeks?” Sherlock is already in his chair. “Isn’t there like a line on my face that only the pillow on the guest bed leaves or something?” John inquired when he reached to top of the stairs while making sure both door to the flat were shut and locked. “Twelve weeks of crying baby, twelve weeks of nursing a healing woman, twelve weeks that I haven’t been informed what so ever of what kind of cases you have been taking.”_

_“I knew you needed paternity leave. There really hasn’t been any cases, most of them solved without leaving the flat. Nothing peaking my interest above Moriarty, who seems to have fallen off the radar again. This case just happened to be interesting enough to take.”_

_“Well I’m long over my leave, I’ve been back at the clinic for 6 weeks, I’ve been texting you.”_

_“I didn’t think you needed any more stress.” Sherlock responded quietly._

_“You think you cause me stress, no sir you give me what I need.” John says walking towards Sherlock’s chair. “Everything that I need taken care of, I can get from you. I want from you.” John places himself between Sherlock’s knees, bending over the taller man, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair before whispering in the detective’s ear. “And I mean everything.”_

_“But Mary.”_

_“But nothing Sherlock, I do not love her, I’m only afraid that if I leave her, she’ll take Rose and I’ll never see her again. I won’t have that. I can’t see another person I love taken away from me, I won’t survive it.” He’s staring into Sherlock’s eyes as if to try to convey something deeper and receives and audible sigh._

_“So you mean to tell me.” Sherlock can’t find the words to say what he is thinking, he closes his eyes, trying to think, and John is too distracting that close to him._

_“I love you Sherlock, I am in love with you and I have been for a very long time.” He presses a gentle kiss to Sherlock’s lips, this time receiving a louder moan before long fingers curl around his neck pulling him closer. John climbs into Sherlock’s lap knees placed on either side of the taller man’s thighs. He starts to tease Sherlock’s lips with his tongue, encouraging the detective to open his mouth. Sherlock opens his mouth and deepens the kiss. There’s teeth and tongue, biting and pulling, rough movements that try to devour each other as if to say this might be the last time, we shall not waste it. John starts to thrust his hips into the other man’s stomach, his length searching for some kind of friction, hands tangling in the mop of dark curls on top of the other’s head. Sherlock’s hand reaches down and palms at the front of John’s trousers before moving to the button and zip. John breaks the kiss, the two men heaving, gasping for air foreheads pressed together. “I can’t promise you anything and for that I am sorry, I will not leave Mary, I will not leave Rose, I can’t even promise not to take her to bed. If I don’t, she will get suspicious. I’m a very active man, and she’ll realize I’m getting it somewhere else. I can promise to be there for you on cases. I will promise to only be a phone call away, and I will promise to never stop loving you.” John whispers, defeated. “I can’t even wake up next to you, and for that I will never forgive myself.”_

_“It’s my fault, though, isn’t it? If I hadn’t jumped, or let you know, you would have never looked at Mary right.”_

_“I wouldn’t have my child.”_

_“There are ways for a male-male partnership to have children.”_

_“You would have raised children with me?”_

_“Of course I would.” Sherlock’s answer earned him anther deep, yet quick kiss. “Especially if we did surrogacy, and you donated. The child would be half you, you know how much I love that baby of yours. I was willing to raise her with you twelve weeks ago wasn’t I? Any child that is yours or mine, for that matter, I would love, I hardly doubt it would take me to long to feel the same way about an adopted child either.”_

_“What’s so good about the child being half broken, ex-army doctor?”_

_“Because I love that broken, ex-army doctor.” Sherlock replied, placing his hand on John’s cheek, gently brushing the forming bruise. “I love you John Watson.” He pulled John’s face down to his own, lightly kissing the doctor’s cheek. “Now that I’ve kissed your bruise better,” Sherlock started before John interrupted with his snickering. “I believe I have something else to take care of, and one of my own that needs attention. So please, John, take me to bed.”_

_“With pleasure.”_

* * *

 

“We do need a place for Rose and John to sleep, Mrs. Hudson as well I can’t let her stay here now, not after this, and I need somewhere to work.” Sherlock’s voice traveling in from the sitting room brings John out of his memory, when did he move in there. Sherlock has taken Rose from Mrs. Hudson and is holding her close as if to make sure she is still breathing even though she is babbling away in his arms. “I do not think I should be alone with Rose for now, not till this is over, I want at least two people with us. It would be harder for him to take us if we are with others or separated.” As he says this, he looks down to John, still squatting on the floor, his legs will be angry with him later, but now it bring him comfort. Sherlock looks at John in a way that signal ‘ _As much as it pains me, I don’t think we should be together at all, maybe if I sacrifice myself, he’ll leave Rose alone.’_

John finally finds his voice. “Alone no, but I will not leave your side Sherlock, you are in danger because I love you, I can’t let you do this alone.”

“You can’t protect us both. You would be better to protect Rose, I need to find him and finish what I left you for in the first place.” Everyone is listening and watching John and Sherlock and they jump a little when Sherlock’s phone chimes.

**I don’t play games like my boss-SM**

**I never said you did-SH**

**You want to finish me?-SM**

**Obviously-SH**

**I may spare the little girl if you come to me, I’ll even send you my location (location sent)-SM**

**Very well-SH**

**I shouldn’t need to say this, but come alone, don’t tell anyone either, I can hear you-SM**

**Obviously-SH**

Sherlock pocketed his phone. “I cannot stay, we are too big of a target together, and he wants to get me more so I leave you until he is caught, his focus will be on me not her.” He says before handing Rose over to a now standing John.

“Sherlock no, I can’t.”

“Yes, I am the one that Moriarty wanted, I’m the one Moran wants most, and he does not only hold you responsible for Moriarty’s death. If we have any chance of finding him I need to go now.”

“Hold on was that him? Did he tell you that?”

“I’m sorry John.” Sherlock sounded defeated, as he turned to his brother, mindful of where the camera was in the sitting room. “Mycroft, please be sure that they are looked after, watched, and monitored. Mummy too.”

“Of course, brother mine.” Not even reacting how Sherlock slipped that last bit in. A code. A code for ‘ _I can’t talk now, but link to my phone when I leave_.’ “Anthea, make sure Mummy has security please, it seems that his weakness could come to danger as well. ‘ _I want to know what those messages are now, track his phone, and have people there for back-up.’_

“Right away sir.” She replied putting her nose into her blackberry.

“What?”

“I have to go now John. The sooner I leave to catch him, the sooner I can return.” Sherlock gives his simple replay before kissing Rose’s forehead and John’s lips. “I love you both.” Before striding out of the door,

“I can’t lose him again, I just can’t.” John says as Molly puts a comforting arm around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind that we are dealing with dreams and memories here. I know it seems a little finicky now, but it will begin to fall into place. The affair, how John was actually trying to work things out for everyone's sake.


	5. And I Don't Wanna Hear About the Bad Blood Anymore.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock thinks about their first time on the way to confront Moran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I apologize to anyone you read this fic, I know I left at a major cliff hanger, someone just read it and got mad at me ;) cause of where I left it. Honestly I had lost my motivation, until I got a surprise kudo the other day and began talking to said person who called me cruel for the cliff hanger, and she honestly motivated me. I'm not naming her but she knows who she is and can name herself in comments if she pleases, she also helped point out some British things.

_“Miss Me?” The two words that made John’s life turn upside down yet right side up at the same time. He knew he was going to be in danger, but he also knew that the love of his life wasn’t going to certain death._

_Sherlock descended the plane stairs and walked over to John and Mary. “I’d be lost without my blogger. Mycroft can provide a safe place for Mary for now.”_

_“Go John, you know I’ve never liked Spiders.” Mary encouraged._

_That’s all it took for John to agree. “Take care of her Mycroft,” leaving out which her he was referring to._

_The detective and his blogger caught a silent cab to take them back to Baker St. Mrs. Hudson greeted them hoover still in hand. “Oh boys, is it really him?”_

_“We don’t know yet Mrs. Hudson, all we know is that every screen in England was hacked with that video.” Sherlock stated. “Mycroft should be sending Anthea over with all the necessary information.” He quickly added before bounding up the stairs. “JOHN”_

_John quickly flowed him up. “Sherlock, Why, what, how?”_

_“I don’t know John, he shot himself in the head. I saw it, that’s why I had to jump.” Sherlock replied weakly. “If he hadn’t shot himself I could have just convinced him to take the snipers away, but instead I had to call them off with my death.”_

_“What snipers Sherlock?”_

_“Moriarty had three snipers trained on the three people I hold most dear.  Mrs. Hudson, Gavin, and you.”_

_“It’s Greg.”_

_“Sure,” Sherlock responded waving his hand._

_“Wait why us, why not Molly or your brother?”_

_“You know as well as most that my brother and I do not have the best sibling relationship. As for Molly, he underestimated her. I guess I kind of ensured that. I had to die or the people he knew I loved would die in my place.” Sherlock keeps his head down as John’s jaw drops._

_“Sherlock what are you saying?”_

_“Exactly what I’ve been saying the whole time, ensuring your happiness, killing in cold blood to keep your lying bitch of a wife safe, keeping you happy. Planning your wedding to a woman that I hate. That one nearly killed me before she actually tried.” Sherlock said behind gritted teeth. “I even told you in my best man speech. I wanted to say it before I boarded the plane, but I didn’t think it would go over well.”_

_“So you mean ‘Sherlock’s actually a girl’s name’ is code for ‘I love you’.”_

_“It would appear so.”_

_“Can’t you say the words to my face?”_

_“Why? What would it change, you don’t return the sentiment, nobody could love a freak like me. I am broken. I am scared. I am tall and gangly, my face is not what people find attractive. I am emotionally inept. I don’t do feelings.” Sherlock replied with a sneer. “And I don’t deserve it, not love, not after all I’ve done.”_

_“Well, that is where you are completely and utterly wrong Sherlock.” John replied gently, moving slowly to where Sherlock stood. “Because I think you are the most beautiful person in the world. And as far as deserving, you did what you did to protect people, I see that now. You feel, I know you do, I’ve seen it. You are not broken Sherlock Holmes, and as far as scars, I have my fair share as well. It is completely possible for me to love you, completely possible that I have loved you since you deduced me in that lab at Bart’s.”_

_“What? But John, you’re not gay.”_

_”Hum, no I am not, but I must be at least a little. Bisexual maybe.” John gently raised his hand resting it on Sherlock’s cheek. “I am going to kiss you now.” Sherlock nodded his reply._

_The kiss started chastely, quickly becoming heated as years of repressed emotion and desire moved to the surface. Sherlock opened his mouth allowing John’s tongue access. Hands were placed anywhere they could reach, hips, hair, and groin. Buttons were tragically lost. Their pelvises aligned together, causing both men to groan in ecstasy. Time passed, neither could say how long, losing time to each other. They were interrupted by Anthea’s knock at the door. Sherlock quickly broke away, to open the door, only to grab the files in Anthea’s hand and slam the door closed. He dropped the files on the floor as quickly as John grabbed for him again._

_Sherlock hesitated. “Mary.” He simply stated._

_“I don’t love her, I did, I promise I did, but when she showed her true colours, lying to protect herself, not others, shooting you, I fell out of love with her. I am in love with you.” John pleaded._

_“But she has you, I do not. You wouldn’t leave your child to be raised by an assassin who could take her and disappear leaving not trace. And you wouldn’t take a child away from her mother.”_

_“You are right, but it doesn’t change the fact that my love is only for you and my baby, for your information I was telling Mycroft to keep the baby safe, once she is out of the womb, I could care less about what happens to said womb, I won’t be contributing to there being another life forming in there. I want you, all of you, always.” John admitted looking up to see the tears in Sherlock’s eyes. “I have to live with her, maybe Mycroft can figure something out for us, but I don’t want my daughter to be a target for him, so once we take care of him, Mycroft can intervene, making sure Mary stays here. That way I can still be in her life. If you wouldn’t mind maybe full custody to me, us, leaving Mary to visit. But for now, we don’t give Moriarty more ammo towards us.”_

_“I want to be with you, but I don’t want to wait.”_

_“Neither do I, we don’t have to wait, we just have to wait for me to move back home.”_

_“Oh. Bedroom?”_

_“God yes, I want to make love to you.” John answered grabbing Sherlock’s hand before running towards Sherlock’s room, the files laying forgotten on the floor. As clothes and shoes were strewn around the flat leaving a trail to the bedroom, John made a realization, and pleaded “Please tell me you have condoms and lube.”_

_“Um, yes, bedside drawer. But do we need it, condom I mean, I would rather feel you come inside me?” Sherlock asked looking like he was trying not to cry again. “I’m clean, I know I am, I’ve never had sex, and Mycroft made me get tested the last time I was in rehab.”_

_“I’m not worried about you love, I was in a committed relationship with a woman who constantly lies. I want to make sure I am clean for you, besides I was rather hoping to feel you inside of me tonight.” John rebutted._

_“John.”_

_“What do you say? Hum, that way it’s a first time for both of us.” Sherlock’s nod was all the answer John needed before laying back on the bed pulling Sherlock on top of him, making their hard cocks flushed together._

_“John I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t know how.”_

_“I’ll let you know if you are hurting me, just, you have to prepare me first. Use your fingers, one at a time and plenty of this.” John said reaching for the lube and handing it to Sherlock. Sherlock coated his fingers in lube, and began to rub around John’s hole before pressing one inside. “Yes, like that, keep that up.” murmured John as Sherlock pumped his index finger in and out. “Okay add another.” Sherlock pulled his finger, lining another with it and slowly pushing back in. “Fuck yes. Sherlock. Do you know where the prostate…Argh Oh God I guess you do.” John found his answer before he could finish the question. Throwing his head back in pleasure, “Keep that up Love.”_

_“I want to taste you John.” Sherlock pleaded, “Please say I can.” John could only nod his answer before Sherlock’s hot wet mouth engulfed him._

_“Christ!” John moaned. “Slowly, now love, I want to come with you inside me. I think I’m ready Love. Put the condom on and more lube.” Sherlock did what John said and soon was lining himself up with John’s stretched hole._

_Sherlock pushed in slowly with a strangled moan, allowing John to adjust, until he was fully seated. He leaned forward placing a kiss on John’s lips, murmuring “I love you so much John. I want to make love to you every day.” John replied by taking Sherlock’s head in his hand and pulling him closer, claiming his mouth for his own._

_“I love you too.” John expressed raking his nails down Sherlock back feeling the grooves and dents there. “Sherlock, what?”_

_“Later John, I’ll explain later I promise” Sherlock explained before leaving a trail of kisses down John’s chest, before shoving his hand between them to wrap around John’s cock._

_“Fuck!” John cried as Sherlock quickly found a rhythm of slowing rocking his hips, pumping his cock in and out of John’s hole angling to hit his prostate each time, and stroking his cock. “I’m close love, please tell me you are, I want you to come for me.” John said just as Sherlock’s body began to seize and he came moaning  a series of ‘Johns’ as he did his hand to tightening on John’s cock tipping the blond man over the edge. “Sherlock!”_

 

* * *

 

“Sir.” The cabbie called, pulling Sherlock out of his mind palace, as the cab pulled up to the abandoned building.

Sherlock handed him the fare and strode into the building not knowing what he would face.

 

* * *

“I can’t believe we just let him go!” John exclaimed as he hugged Rose closer to his chest.

“I assure you Doctor Watson, we know the location Moran texted him and already have men ready to strike, with more on the way.” Mycroft responded.

 

* * *

 

“Welcome Mr. Holmes!” The blond haired man said as Sherlock entered the building, raising his gun towards the detective. “I see you left your heart at home, very wise of you.”

“Wise of me, yes. But this little ploy of yours, not very. You see my brother is the British government and well you see he has this nasty habit of knowing where I am at all times, even when I was dead he knew. He worries constantly.” Sherlock responded just as five red dots appeared on Moran’s chest, two more on his head. “Now, you might want to put that down.”

Sherlock could see the other man start to panic. Moran did not lower the gun but rather fired causing all seven of Mycroft’s snipers to fire leaving Moran dead and Sherlock with a bullet in his left shoulder.

Mycroft’s men descended and quickly checked to make sure Moran was dead before heading towards the injured Sherlock.

 

* * *

_“I want another.” Sherlock exclaimed one day whilst holding Rose in his arms, just weeks after the wedding_

_“Another what Sherlock?” John asked not looking up from his paper._

_“John, look at us, goodness and you say I don’t pay attention.” Sherlock scolded. John out down his paper and made eye contact with his husband. “Another baby, I don’t think kids should be raised alone, they need siblings. Granted they may not get along.” At that John couldn’t help but nod. “But they could provide themselves useful in sticking situations, as Mycroft has proven several times over. Never tell him I said that, you do and I will deny it.”_

_“I probably won’t have to.” John said pointing towards Billy the Skull._

_“Christ, of course. But John when I say another, I know there are limitations for a same sex couple to procreate, but I want one, of mine, one of you one of me. We could have another woman have it and use my sperm. Of course I’d rather it be from both of us but that isn’t possible.”_

_“Now hold on, what was that thing about sibling proving themselves to be useful sometimes?” John interrupted with a sly smile. “Harry has been sober for a year now. We could ask.” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Sherlock pulled him into a one sided embrace._

_“So that’s a yes?”_

_“Of course it is you numpty, If Harry can’t or won’t well get someone else, but she would the best choice to have one that was as close to ours as we could get.”_

_“Thank you John, we are getting our Thomas.”_

* * *

 

Sherlock woke with John holding his right hand, his head on the bed. He could see the guards outside the door. John stirred, sensing that Sherlock had moved. “Hey” John murmured, still sleep addled. “Um well, Moran’s dead, seven snipers were positioned even before you arrived, that cabbie must have been bloody awful, but this time I’m glad he was.”

“Hum, yes it was an awful route, I didn’t mind, gave me time to store some stuff away in my mind palace.”

“Oh, what did you store away?”

“The night that I was supposed to fly away on that suicide mission.”

“That was a good night.” John said with a smile.

“Yes, yes it was John.” Sherlock couldn’t help but smile back. “Guess we’ll have matching scares now.”

“I suppose we will, speaking of scars, you’ve never told me about the ones on your back.”

“I will John. I will tell you everything you want to know. But all I want to know is that you are mine now, forever, I love you too much to not have you in my life, or Rose for that matter. I love her as my own.”

“I know you do Sherlock. You know I keep having dreams about the future, us, Rose and a little boy, clearly yours named Thomas. One dream we had wedding bands on. In a house by the sea.”

“That sounds nice John.” Sherlock responded leaving out that he had dreamed the same thing. “So what do you say?”

“To what?”

“Marry Me.”

“Yes.” John simply replied placing a kiss on Sherlock’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like a good place to leave this, I don't know. kind seems like I should do the Marriage and their lives in a second part now that the enemies have been dealt with.


	6. Not really

So I once was taught that a writer never leaves a work unfinished, and I do intend to finish this work, but not anytime soon. Most likely I will delete this whole thing and rework it when I feel the ability to continue. 

Sorry about that, but feel free to browse my other works, one completely finished, one supposed to be oneshot, but likely to be continued, and one that just go two new chapters tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed, it will be a series. This is actually the middle of the story I want to tell, I will do a prequel, showing Moriarty's return, Rose's birth, and the year and so after Sherlock steps off the plane. I'm not quite sure if the last part will be it's own work or if it'll be an epilogue, to this one.


End file.
